Pour Vous, Jeanne d'Arc
by Meles
Summary: At one time, I was very alone and detached from the world. ...But then, she came. - Title Translation: To You, Jeanne d'Arc -


"I'm fighting for your sake!"

That is what she said to me when I had asked for her to stop fighting.

Her lightly colored eyes had been fierce and her voice sounded like venom. Her skin had been littered with scars and her blonde, if not brunette, hair was dirty. She was young and rather beautiful despite her ragged appearance. Her name was Jeanne d'Arc. And, quite honestly, I didn't want to lose her.

* * *

As nations, we see things. We see birth and we see death. The older we get, the more we see. As one of the older nations, I've seen almost everything. I've seen life come and go, wars begin and end, and I've hand my greatest friends hold a blade to my throat in their name. It all became so much that at one point, I forgot what it was to feel. I forgot what it was to be almost human. I suppose that every nation goes through this at some point, but it hurts. It hurts more than anything to forget.

But then, she came.

I guess you could say that I was curious about her. A woman dressing like a man and laying down her life for my sake was strange to me. What was even more strange, was that she claimed to be God's messenger. When I finally worked up my nerves and asked her what God's angels were telling her, she looked at me and gave me a rather simple answer.

"They tell me to send the rats back to England."

At first, we only spoke of God and what his angels told her, but with time, we spoke of more personal things. What her life was like before God came to her, who she knew, who her family was. We became closer as time wore on. It was the first time I felt free, because I fought under her banner and command. I stood by her as she chose to continue fighting despite being shot with an arrow. I was there with her when the new king was crowned. I came to love her and even though my love was not returned, she came to love me as the rightful being of her beloved nation. I was content. I was content because she taught me how to feel something again.

She taught me how to enjoy life.

...But all dreams have to come to an end.

Jeanne was wounded in battle again, but this time was different. England took her away and I was completely helpless.

* * *

It was May 30, 1431 when I saw Jeanne again. It was silent. Dead silent despite the multiple people that had gathered around to watch. She was tied to a tall pillar in the Viewux-Marche in Rouen. Her armor had been stripped away and was replaced with a dress. She had new bruises and small cuts, a sign that said that she had been molested while the English had held her. Dried tears formed patterns on her dirt covered face. Her head had been shaven.

"Let it be known that this woman, known as Jeanne d'Arc, immodestly cut her hair and don the attire of a man, continuously bringing disorder to the world with her unruly and bloodthirsty nature!" The priest shouted, cutting the silence rather harshly. "Moreover, she has rejected the laws of the church, choosing to only submit herself to her false visions of God!"

Then a man with messy blonde hair, thick eyebrows, and bright green eyes stepped forward. "For these sinful acts against our faith, the witch shall hereby be put to death!"

"Wait!"

The blonde turned to Jeanne, slightly surprised that she had chosen to speak now.

"What is it, witch?" He asked.

"I demand a crucifix!"

The blonde shifted uncomfortably for a second, but turned to two of the clergy present to hold a crucifix in front of her like she asked. He asked her if that would do and she gave him a single nod. As he watched, the blonde's eyes grew hesitant. He muttered something around the lines of 'bloody hell' and squatted down. He picked up a few small sticks and tied them together. Eventually, he made it into a cross necklace. He gently held it in his hands for a moment before turning to her. Their eyes met and he walked up to her. She stared at him, a strange spark in her eyes, but she didn't make any move to escape him as he began to work the make-shift necklace around her neck.

"You're the one that called Francis a loser." She said, suddenly breaking the uncomfortable silence. "You're England, aren't you?"

The blonde paused to look at her for a second, but he said nothing, confirming that her suspicious where true.

"Don't worry; I forgive you."

Now England finally spoke. "I do not ask for forgiveness."

"England. There is one last thing I want you to do for me."

"And what is that?" He asked as he finished tying the necklace together.

"_Priez pour moi._"*

He was silent.

"If that is what you wish..."

By the time I got there, the flames had already been set. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't say anything. All I could do was stare and cry. She met the fire with such composure and bravery that my heart ached. For so long, I had been detached and alone, but she had cared enough to clean my wounds and call me her home.

So seeing the English expose what was left of her body, burn her twice more, and finally throw her in the Seine as a final injustice against her when she had only wanted to free her people, made me wish for death. It made me feel like my life was taken and all that was left was emptiness.

What had made my life worth living had been taken away, but all I could do was fall asleep and wake up the next morning.

* * *

But then...

...she came back.

The girl looked as beautiful as she had. Her voice was gentle but had a soft edge to it as her's had. She was like Jeanne in every way. The girl's name was Lisa.

I wanted to hug her and talk to her like the past few centuries had never even happened. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her and how sorry I was. I wanted to do so many things.

But Lisa wasn't Jeanne and though it hurt, I wanted to tell her. I needed to tell her.

She simply had to know.

So...

"When I first saw you, I thought God was pulling a cruel trick on me. But now I see you're living a happy life." I had allowed no hesitation as I let my hand gently rest upon her own. I felt a rush of warmth race up my arm and I smiled a bit wider. It really was her. I sighed happily and continued. "It seems my wish has been granted."

"What? What are you ta-? " Lisa turned only to find that she was left alone. She quickly became confused. "Huh? But he was just there..." She looked around and reached out for something unknown.

"Who was he?"

* * *

_According to Google Translate:_

_*Priez pour moi : Please pray for me_


End file.
